


We'll not be victims (there'll be no victims of to speak)

by ParadifeLoft



Series: I Will Burn Hotter Than the Sun [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadifeLoft/pseuds/ParadifeLoft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the ships from Aman to Beleriand, some have more doubts than others. Not that <em>any</em> doubts are acceptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll not be victims (there'll be no victims of to speak)

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a collection of shortfic pieces, organised around the general theme of the sons of Feanor being rather reminiscent of a centuries-long trainwreck.

He was hovering again.

"Stop chewing your lip, Tyelko," I hissed, and he obeyed like it was a guilty reflex, ducking his head.

Silence, for a moment, and then, "Do you... worry, at all?"

I pressed the tip of my tongue to the top of my mouth and exhaled, short and forceful. "About what?"

"I don't know. It just seems like something bad is going to happen. Or already has."

"There is no reason our plans should not continue to hold to their course," I assured him. The plans themselves tumbled over each other again and again in my thoughts. Arrive, settle new lands, fortify them. Assault and lay siege to the fortress of our cursed Enemy until our sworn deed had been accomplished. "What could toss them from the path laid before us? Surely not the Valar, with their impotence the very reason for our flight. One being and his armies, terrible as they may be, can hardly stand before the might of the Noldor."

I cast him a brief smile. All surety and confidence and a hint of laughter. "Do you doubt your fighting prowess? Or Atar's steel?"

He tried to smile back, but it came out an unnerving grimace before disappearing just as quickly. His face had always been as a tome intended for small children, everything stated plain and obvious in short bursts and simple language.

"Not his - "

He stoppered the sentence abruptly, and his lips turned inward again. It was something curious, having intuitively the knowledge of how it would have ended, but not in the words that knowledge should have come in. (The words might have been some undesirable at the doors of my chambers, turned away by another guarding them, yet his presence still known to me and fouling my mood.)

My arms crossed about my chest and I turned to face him instead of stand beside him, leaning against the rail of the ship. The sea breeze caught and tugged on a few strands of loose hair, whipping them against my face.

"Brother, if you continue speaking like this I shall wonder if you hadn't wandered away as I glanced elsewhere and Káno slipped in to take your place."

He looked suitably ashamed at that, at least.

"We will recover what is ours and cast down all those who would steal from us, no matter their power, and there will be wide stretches of untamed lands for you to hunt in and you will be a great lord. That is what will happen when we reach the shore. Fix your gaze on those thoughts instead of whatever black ones have tried nesting in your mind. Else their goals might slip away from you for lack of fervour."

I hadn't convinced him. He made a show of pretending, certainly, but it was a poor one, and I a poor audience for it. I would lay the matter to rest for now though. And time and events, if not words of assurance, might soon enough do the work needed.


End file.
